Happy Birthday
by ElvenStrife
Summary: Apollo decides to grace his captured prince with yet another gift. Will this be one that actually pleases Ganymede? Apollo/Ganymede.


**Title: **Happy Birthday

**Rating: **M

**Warnings: **Smut, yaoi (boy/boy), AU (if you want to get picky about it~), one-shot.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Olympos/Olimpos_ or any recognisable characters/places. They belong to their original creators and no money is being made from this.

**Summary:** Apollo decides to grace his captured prince with yet another gift. Will this be one that actually pleases Ganymede? Apollo/Ganymede.

**A/N: **This fic is set after Heinz comes in and out of the story, but before Zeus or Hades go to the garden. Just to give you guys some context! It is rather AU, given this didn't happen at all, but that's every fanfiction ever. :P This was written for that same friend who requested two _Code Geass_ stories off of me, and I don't know how many people are even aware of this manga. If you haven't read it, I strongly suggest you do before continuing (because it's amazing and this will make more sense, I think). It's not even that long! Anyhow, here's a _long_ story about an obscure pairing. Enjoy.

PS: I've also _estimated_ Ganymede to be over 3000 years old, due to when his father's name seems to be dated in Greek history and the current date which I have also estimated to be around the later 1800s. The ruins of Troy were first uncovered then, so I've set this story just before that discovery but still in the 19th century. If I have made a mistake, I apologise.

* * *

Nothing is more useful than silence.

Apollo had brought the quote to Ganymede with curious intent some time ago, but the passage of time was difficult to supervise in the miniature garden. The sky was an endless night, stars shining down at him as he lay amongst the flowers: white flowers, immune to his weight, uncrushable. His resistance had once been that strong, years ago... he didn't know how many exactly.

Ganymede had questioned the quote, demanding to know why it was of any importance. All Apollo had said was that it came from Menander of Athens, and then he realised its significance. Why had he never heard it before? The answer was simple: he had been in this garden longer than he had thought. Years were passing by without him; everyone he knew was gone. His father, the king of Troy, and his brothers... one Apollo had murdered before his very eyes. The image stung and he blinked it away.

How useful was this silence? All it did was give him time to _think_. He was so tired of thinking. Memories haunted him, escape eluded him, and his thoughts always came to the same conclusion: hopelessness.

He had fought so hard at first to escape and prove he could defy the gods—gods he had once loved and admired. Apollo thwarted him at every turn and his hatred festered every time the god opened his mouth. There was no more adoration in his heart for these deities. It had been extinguished.

Nothing is more useful than silence. He contemplated the phrase again and gazed up at the dark sky overhead. He had more than enough silence here in the garden whenever Apollo didn't deem it necessary to harass him.

He had tried using the silence to plan an escape, but there was no point to that anymore. There was no escape. He was fated to be Apollo's plaything for as long as the god wished.

"I can hear your thoughts, you know."

The voice was smooth, perfectly enunciated, and sent a fire through Ganymede's nerves. The boy sat up and spread his fingers through the flowers, turning his head to face Apollo. The god was standing on top of the Parthenon wall, leaning against a pillar daintily. His toga blew in an unseen wind and revealed long legs a tone darker than the prince's. His hair was a reddish brown that shined more richly than any gold or silver, held in place by a strange hairpiece that was a mixture of flowers and metal. Jewellery hung around his neck but did not make a noise as he leapt gracefully from the wall and landed on the tiled floor near the flowerbed Ganymede sat in.

Apollo's eyes, as bright as his hair but reflecting a different colour from every angle, danced with amusement. He drew closer, popping a hip out and crossing his arms now that the support of the pillar was gone. "They're always the same... so morose and depressing. You could try something a bit lighter."

Ganymede tilted his chin up as he stared at the only presence he ever had here. The dagger his brother had given him before he'd perished was rested in his lap against the blue skirt of his robe; he had of course tried to attack Apollo with it before, to no avail. "What are you doing back?" He snapped.

Apollo smiled at the familiar hostility and moved closer, sliding his feet into the flowers without causing them damage. "I thought you might be bored."

That was always the reason, Ganymede reflected as he pushed himself to his feet. He clutched the sheathed dagger in his right hand and glared at Apollo, his long pale hair swinging about his shoulders as he let his temper flare. "I'd rather be bored than have to look at you."

"You're so lifeless," Apollo said. "I suppose it's better than when you lay about killing yourself, but you can't tell me you're having fun just staring into nothingness."

"I've forgotten what it's like to have fun," Ganymede said. He lifted a long-fingered hand to his throat, splaying it out against the elaborate gold necklace that covered his neck and shoulders, a sign of the stature he had once possessed. "I'm a prisoner here and you know it."

"You are what you make yourself," Apollo said cryptically. He stood on the toes of his feet, a head taller than the Trojan boy, and leant forward close to his face. "How a man sees himself is how others will see him."

Ganymede pressed his teeth together. Apollo never had a distinct or nameable scent, but it was an amalgamation of unrecognisable aromas which were pleasant. The long strands of his red hair blew forward with the unseen wind again and he stopped breathing so that his anger would not fade. "I have no choice," he argued. "What else am I? You brought me here against my will and refuse to release me. Sounds like a prisoner."

Apollo leant back and touched his right index finger to his jaw, considering the statement. "I suppose you're right," he said. "Then again, you're the one who chooses not to enjoy it... but that does make it more interesting for me."

Ganymede wanted to lash out at him, but it wouldn't be the first time and he'd only be overpowered. '_Interesting_'? Apollo did all of this for fun! To get a kick out of it. He'd even sent Heinz, the modern archaeologist, here just to try and raise the prince's hope of escape again so he could watch and enjoy himself. The idiot man had only been interested in the woman he loved and Ganymede was still nursing the wound that little incident had left. "You're nothing but cruel."

"You complain a lot," Apollo said. His eyes glinted again and he burst into laughter. "The-... look on your face! Ah haha!"

Ganymede's blue eyes hardened into ice and he stormed past the idiot god, making for the single building he'd been granted as a 'fond reminder' of his home town. His anger sizzled off of him in almost visible waves. Apollo caught his elbow.

"Not in the mood to play, Ganymede?"

The boy turned his gaze on the redhead and pulled once on his arm. It didn't budge. "No."

Apollo looked disappointed and let him go. Ganymede continued his proud stalk to the covered area of the building and kicked the ground under him with the toe of his sandal, barely holding back an audible curse. The god smiled, entertaining the thought of how similar the human looked to an infant in the throes of a tantrum.

"I did come here for another reason," he purred slowly, suddenly behind the blonde. He caught his wrist as the boy started and made to turn, keeping him in place, and grinned against his ear. "But I'm not sure you really deserve to hear it with how you're acting."

Ganymede felt his stomach tighten. "What is it?"

Apollo let out another laugh. He could hear the prince's thoughts as if he were saying them aloud, and was barely impressed by Ganymede's identification of this as another game. The boy was here for his amusement, and when Apollo was bored... the former prince of Troy would satisfy that dissatisfaction whether he wanted to or not.

"It's your birthday, Ganymede."

The words caught him off guard and the prince's hand went limp in Apollo's grip. He stared ahead, shocked by the simple statement. _'My... birthday? I gave up trying to count the passing of time here. I forgot about such trivial things.' _

"Trivial," Apollo said. "You really are beginning to think like us."

By "us", Ganymede knew Apollo was referring to the gods. It was not the first time he had noted the boy's increasing cynicism and philosophical intellect. This place was rubbing off on him and he hated it; it was far from a compliment and the damn god _knew_ that. "Shut up."

Apollo seemed delighted by the anger, even if it was weak and tinged with lingering surprise. Ganymede was the only one who spoke to him like this and it entertained him. "How old do you think you are, Ganymede?"

The prince stiffened again and turned his head, trying to look at his captor. Due to his immortality, he still had the body of the young teenager he had been when Apollo had first abducted him. The god was directly challenging his accuracy of keeping track of time, and he felt his anger surge again. "I don't know."

Apollo smirked. "Thousands of years old."

Ganymede had known time had passed. The other human, Heinz, had spoken of excavating the ruins of an ancient city... Troy. He had realised it too late, but the man had been speaking of Troy. He had _known_ a lot of time had passed, so why was he so shocked to hear it? He tried to wrench away again and this time Apollo let him go.

"How many thousands?" Ganymede tried to keep his voice firm and disinterested, but the whispered terror was there.

Apollo's expression seemed to soften, seemed to lose a little of its superiority, and his eyes grew sombre. Ganymede tried not to make the mistake of thinking he actually cared. "Over three."

The boy blanched and leant against the wall. "Why are you telling me this? Why are you bringing this up?"

Some of Apollo's sly playfulness returned and he leant his back against a pillar, the structure nearly three times his width. "Because I wanted to offer you a gift," he said. "Isn't that a regular tradition amongst humans? ... They count the time using the days they were born, celebrating it as they go. I thought I could offer you that much, Ganymede."

The blonde's eyes narrowed and he set a hand to the wall, lifting himself off of it. Suspicion clouded his irises, but Apollo also saw a wink of curiosity. "A gift from _you_ could hardly bode well."

"What are you trying to say?" Apollo demanded, tone affronted. His grin faltered and he dropped both hands to his hips. "I've given you heaps of great gifts so far!"

They had covered this before too. Apollo considered the Parthenon, endless night sky, and flowers all 'gifts'. Ganymede had grown to loathe the very sight of all of them. His familiar retort rose to his lips unbidden. "I wanted none of those things!"

Apollo frowned and twitched his nose a little. "You're always so unappreciative," he said. "Humans! Bah. Maybe I should just forgo the gift then and leave you here to bask in the stars? You seemed to be enjoying that."

He turned, dragging his hand over the smooth texture of the pillar, and descended the few steps leading back to the tiles surrounding the structure. His narrow hips swayed as he walked, the belt emphasising his elegant figure. Contrary to the Greek statues that had been built of him depicting him as mighty and _macho_, he was far from it: a beauty.

Ganymede seemed more resistant to that charm than other mortals and threw an insult after him as he left, calling him an idiot. Apollo mentally counted down the seconds, able to hear the boy considering his own curiosity in his mind, and smiled. This was just another game, of course. He would deliver his present whether Ganymede followed through or not, but it was _very_ boring here—...

"Wait!"

There it was. Apollo snapped his fingers and turned lewdly, lifting one eyebrow.

Ganymede stood near the pillar the god had been leaning against moments before. "Tell me what the gift is."

Apollo's eyelids lowered and his expression became serpentine. He leant forward even though he was paces away. "Tell me why you're suddenly so interested, Ganymede."

"I'm tired of this unending routine," the boy admitted after a brief moment, knowing he wouldn't be able to lie about it. Apollo could hear his thoughts. "Nothing happens in this place. Any curiosity is better than none."

Apollo liked that he wasn't the only one who was bored. There would be days when Ganymede would lie in place for prolonged periods of time, barely moving, staring up at the sky. He hoped his idea might give the boy a bit of life again, furthering his own entertainment. There was no fun in watching a prone figure. "Well in that case, I want to take you out for your birthday!"

Ganymede let the shock slice through him again, curling his fingers against the pillar, trying to determine what the god meant. "... Take me out?"

"Do you wish to see the world below again?"

"You're not serious," Ganymede said. The deity was only trying to lift his hopes again so he could destroy them. He had told himself he wouldn't let this keep happening! "Like you'd let me set foot outside of this godforsaken garden! Don't lie to me!"

'_Godforsaken, hmm?' _Apollo hid a smile behind his hand, bracelets falling together on his slim wrist. "I have told you many times before, Ganymede, that gods can only speak true words."

"I know—..."

"I will take you to the mortal world," Apollo said, cutting off any weak protest. "See? I'm not lying. I can say it, so there's all the proof you need. Of course, this doesn't mean I'm letting you go, Ganymede."

"Why would you do this?" Ganymede demanded, pulse hammering in his ears. He felt his excitement rising at the prospect of being able to see something other than this garden and Apollo, but his scepticism fought to pessimistically shoot this down as a trick.

Apollo's eyes narrowed and he grinned, waving his hand through the air as he made his way back towards the prince. "Would this make you happy, Ganymede?"

Since when did his happiness matter to the god? The boy stared at Apollo as he drew closer, trying to figure this out. Was it a trick? He desperately wanted to believe he had a chance to get out of this place, set his feet down on _proper ground_. "... It would," he answered honestly, expression wary. He expected Apollo to make fun of him and was yet again surprised when he didn't.

"Then is it not a perfect gift?" He took Ganymede's hand and winked. The prince forced himself not to resist, daring to believe Apollo wasn't being a complete bastard for once, and kept his emotions in check.

Apollo pulled Ganymede closer and there was a flash of white light that temporarily blinded the human. He opened his mouth to gasp, vision turning to black, and then he knew nothing.

~000000000000000000000000000~

When Ganymede regained consciousness, he found himself spread out on something flat and hard, but elevated. He gave his eyes a moment to adjust before trying to sit up. His surroundings surprised him; he was in a church, seated on one of the pews, with no one else in sight—no one but Apollo.

The god was in the row in front of him, gazing back. "It's been close to an hour... I was beginning to think you wouldn't wake up."

Ganymede touched the side of his head as he stared around the building, first overwhelmed that it was something other than the garden. His heart soared a tad even though he wasn't sure where exactly they were. Anywhere was better than that place.

"It's a church," Apollo said, leaning over the pew to place his face close to the boy's. "Similar to the temples you'd know, but they praise a different god here."

Ganymede sneered a little, though was still gathering his thoughts about him. "For good reason."

"Now, now," Apollo waved a finger and straightened, moving into the aisle. "If you don't behave, I could always just take you back to the garden before you get to see outside?"

Ganymede's eyes widened a little and he bit down on his tongue, willing to play along. Apollo really was giving him something he wanted this time. Even if the god's motives turned out to be impure, he just wanted to be away from that horrid place. He wanted to see the _sun_.

He glanced up at the colourful windows depicting strange images of a woman and man, and then followed Apollo into the aisle. "Where exactly are we?"

"England," Apollo said, pursing his lips like there was a foul taste in his mouth.

Ganymede trailed him to the heavyset doors at the end of the church. He felt his anticipation grow as Apollo elegantly wrapped his fingers around the long door handle and opened it. The prince expected sunlight to wash over him as he stepped out, a sensation he had quickly forgotten, but he should have known. He should have _known_.

It was night.

People bustled through the streets, women clad in long dresses and men in high pants. Overhead, the moon shone and the stars twinkled. Ganymede felt the fire in his chest dampen a little and his breath caught in his throat. Everything was so dark; people carried lanterns. There was no sun.

Apollo crowed with laughter beside him, looping an arm around his own waist. He doubled over, gasping for air. "Ahaha! Hahaha! The look on your face! Priceless!"

Ganymede whirled on him, fury lighting up his eyes.

Apollo had missed that passion. "Were you expecting sunlight, Ganymede? My apologies! Ahaha!"

The boy drew his dagger and thrust it at the occupied deity, but Apollo caught his arm effortlessly, suddenly behind him. The boy wasn't even shocked at the speed. "Ganymede," he warned in a sultry tone. "What did I say about behaving? Think about it... at least you still get to see something other than that garden I know you're so fond of."

Ganymede trembled, furious with Apollo and embarrassed with himself, but relented. Apollo was right. Even if he didn't get to see the sun, he still got to see the world outside the garden. He tried to console himself with the thought and found it comforting.

Apollo dropped his arm and turned, gesturing at the streets. "Where do you want to go, Ganymede? There's a lot to see."

The prince looped his dagger through the golden belt breaking up his toga. This place was so different to the Troy he had known—it was destroyed now. The buildings were constructed of wood and the roads were paved differently. The inhabitants wore less elegant clothing, a majority of them looking like peasants or servants. He even considered the clothing absurd.

Just the sight of it all made him feel lighter. He didn't need the sun to appreciate this atmosphere. Real smells permeated the air here, both good and bad, and so different to the garden. He descended the steps, inhaling, smiling ahead at a mother dragging her young son through the streets. He could not make out her words, but her tone was curt and short, indicating the boy was in trouble.

So _human_.

He had forgotten how human he was. Immortality had made him weary.

He surged forward, sandals sliding over the cobbled road. His hair and blue robes billowed behind him in the breeze as he pitched forward, suddenly gripped by the realisation that this was the world: the world he had been stolen from. This was his escape. He was out of that garden and back in reality, where time was limited and actions mattered.

He could not squander this opportunity. Apollo shouted something behind him but he wasn't listening. He moved into the crowd, rushing through the people, trying to hide himself as quickly as possible.

No one even looked at him as he barrelled past, as if they were unaware of his presence, and it struck him as odd. He was dressed so differently. Shouldn't they at least glance in his direction?

"Excuse me," he risked saying to a man as he skidded around a corner, almost tripping over a small caged chicken.

The man didn't look at him as he stooped to lift the cage, staring in at the bird.

"Excuse me," Ganymede tried again, hesitation blossoming. _'He can't see or hear me... he doesn't even know I'm here. No one can see me!'_

"I couldn't risk that," Apollo said behind him and Ganymede jumped, turning around. "We'd draw too much attention."

"You—!" Ganymede's jaw went lax and he backpedalled.

Apollo smirked and leant forward to play with a piece of Ganymede's flaxen hair. "You don't really think you can escape, do you? I told you that there's no escaping me. Why waste so much effort?"

Ganymede tried to deny the truth of the statement. Apollo couldn't speak falsely, but he refused to accept that he could never escape. He pulled away and turned, sprinting away from him, squeezing down an alley. The ground flew by beneath his panicked feet and he didn't stop. He didn't care how fruitless his flight was; he couldn't stop.

He turned left at the end of the alley and emerged into another street, carriages using this main road. _'I could take a horse. They have horses!'_ He stopped. His thoughts were panicked and desperate and he couldn't formulate a plan like this. The horses were already being used and he wasn't sure he'd even be able to interact with them if he couldn't get the attention of the humans here.

It didn't help that he knew Apollo could hear his thoughts easily.

He started forward again, keeping on the move, fighting back hopelessness and worry. He had to try; he couldn't go back to that garden. He was free now and he needed to fight for this with everything he had left. Even if Apollo got his fix in the end by witnessing his defeat and despair, everything inside him begged him to keep trying.

He raced past the houses, internally awed by how strange the world had become, the noise from his surroundings lost to the constant beat of his feet on the pavement and short gasping of his breath. He ran as fast as he could, refusing to acknowledge his body's protests. He had no idea where he was going, but the streets continued and he immersed himself deeper in their confusing labyrinth.

He came to a grassy knoll on the outskirts of the town near a well and stable. There were no horses inside and that plan fled entirely, leaving him feeling suddenly tired.

His legs collapsed and he caught himself against the stones of the well, lowering himself to the ground. He heard the water trickle within as he nudged the rope supporting the descended bucket and closed his eyes. Even the sound of water had been lost to him. _'It's the small things...'_

He wondered if he had run far enough. He wasn't sure of the exact distance, but it had to be an impressive amount with how his limbs shook slightly and his eyes stung against the wind.

The houses near the stable had their lights on so that he was not in complete darkness; it had become later, he noticed. Most of the people had cleared out of the streets and he hoped he wasn't too visible under the light of the moon. It was a cloudy night though and he was thankful for that. The air was fresher here where the houses were spread further apart and he closed his eyes, tilting his head back to breathe in.

He felt fingers slide through his hair and opened his eyes to gaze into the iridescent orbs boring holes through him.

"N-no..."

"I did know you'd try to escape," Apollo murmured. He held Ganymede still, ignoring the boy's frustrated disbelief. "I anticipated it. I can hear your thoughts wherever you go and track you down with no effort. Do you think I'd give you a chance like this if I couldn't control it?"

Ganymede pulled back, but Apollo held firm, and his freedom crashed down around him. A part of him had known it was fruitless, yet he had tried. "You can't seriously think I'd just follow you around obediently while you showed me everything I couldn't have!"

"Turning my gifts against me again!" Apollo bit out, looking unimpressed. "I do something nice for you, Ganymede, and this is what I get? Pah."

"You wanted to see me disappointed from the start," the prince accused.

Apollo slid his hand out of the blonde hair. He was on his knees in front of Ganymede, bringing them to the same height. He tilted his head to the side, red locks falling over his shoulder. "I did," he admitted. "But I wasn't lying when I said I wanted to celebrate your birthday with you. A very small part of me did want to see you happy for once."

"If you wanted me to be happy, you never should have kidnapped me in the first place," Ganymede said. His mouth dropped as he glared.

"Give me some credit for trying to cheer you up a bit!" Apollo said. "I do have better things I could have been doing right now!"

"Like what?"

"... Talking to Poseidon," Apollo said offhandedly, though he'd rather do anything _but_ that. His uncle was a complete fool.

Ganymede's eyes lit up a little as the god of the sea was mentioned and then lowered his gaze to his lap, entwining his fingers together, letting out a hopeless sigh. "I am glad to see all of this," he said sincerely. "Anything but that garden."

"You're going to have to go back there," Apollo reminded.

"I know!" The boy snapped. He heaved another sigh. "Let me guess: that fills you with all the amusement in the world?"

Apollo regarded the Trojan prince. His cerulean eyes had lifted again to stare matter-of-factly at him; his statement wasn't really a question. The god's fair face curved into a seductive expression. Even Ganymede found it hard to resist it and his frown fell away. "This has already been entertaining," Apollo said. "I haven't been bored at all during all of this, except when you were unconscious."

"I'm glad," the blonde hissed sarcastically.

"Ganymede," Apollo said. The flat sincerity of the tone made the prince look back at him, surprised by it. "I know we have our... differences—"

"Understatement."

"—but I really did want to make you at least a little bit happier," Apollo continued. "Even if you've exhausted yourself with your silly attempt to escape and had a tantrum over the lack of sunlight, you can't deny that the change of scenery has pleased you."

Ganymede wasn't sure if he was playing into another trap or not, but was urged by the sincerity to respond in kind. Apollo couldn't lie after all. "This has been the best thing to happen for a while," he said. "That's in contrast to being trapped in the garden though."

Apollo's eyes widened and he pouted. "You can't tell me it's all bad there."

"It's all bad there."

Apollo's eyebrow twitched and he sighed, dropping the matter. Ganymede stared at him for a few seconds, evaluating the words they had just exchanged—Apollo could hear him—and then the blonde spoke again. "I'll thank you, but only this once. You still infuriate me to no end."

"Intentionally," Apollo said and smiled. The gratitude flattered him; he even sort of liked it after being exposed to so much of the prince's anger... not that he wanted that to stop. The anger was hilarious. He was glad it had been Ganymede he'd chosen to take to the garden and keep for eternity. The boy was perfect for everything he wanted—stubborn, proud, intelligent, but also fair at times.

Ganymede leant his head against the cool stones of the well and glanced up at the stars. "How long will you let me stay here?"

Apollo considered it, deciding which way he would go, and then suppressed his sadism briefly. "Until morning, if you like."

The blonde's eyes lit up and Apollo found he enjoyed that too; Ganymede's excitement was plain and clear. "To see the sun?" He asked. "You'd allow that? You're not going to go back on that word, are you?"

Apollo winked. "Always speak the truth, remember? Humans really are dim sometimes."

Ganymede narrowed his eyes, but a smile pulled for dominance of his mouth and he couldn't hold back the small expression. Apollo reached out to brush a finger over the corner of it, feeling the smile he had caused. He rarely saw such expressions on Ganymede's face, now that he thought about it.

The prince allowed the touch and then Apollo pulled him in to kiss his forehead. Unlike with Heinz, the feel of Ganymede's skin was far from vile.

"Apollo?"

The god smiled against his flesh. He had spoken to other humans in the past, even gotten close to one, and he remembered her words about how the Lord Apollo would take many lovers of any gender and took part in many frivolous couplings. Gods had no need for such human things, but when a mortal was beautiful enough to attract the eye of a god... well, they were usually unique and gods liked things just as pretty as they were.

Studying Ganymede now, he found himself admiring how beautiful he was for a mortal. He'd been drawn to him from the start.

"Are you blushing?" He asked the boy coyly.

Ganymede's eyes widened and he jerked, a light flush adorning his cheeks and visible in the pale moonlight. "No!"

"You know, it is your birthday," Apollo murmured. He touched the prince's chin and forced him to hold his gaze. "Don't take this whole me-being-easy-on-you thing for granted. Let me do something special for you though, eh?"

Ganymede swallowed against the fingers holding his jaw in place. He had a vague feeling he knew what the god meant, but it was so preposterous. He _hated_ Apollo, and the god viewed him as some inferior toy. Right? _Right?_

"What makes you think I want you touching me?" He demanded, but his tone was far from firm.

"You don't hate me as much as you want to, Ganymede," Apollo replied easily. "Even with all your cursing and anger, I'm still the only person who's your constant company now. You won't admit it to yourself, but you've adjusted. You even kind of like me."

Ganymede clenched his jaw shut and some of his blush dissolved. Before he could protest, Apollo's grin widened so it was nearly feline.

"I can even say that aloud!" He said. "You kind of like me... Ganymede kind of likes me."

"Stop it," the boy demanded angrily. He refused to acknowledge the times he'd thought about how lonely Apollo might be without him. He hated the god... it was easier to hate than to sympathise.

Apollo gripped his chin and pulled him in for a proper kiss, opening his mouth against Ganymede's so that the prince automatically did the same. Before the blonde could think too much about what was happening, he slid his tongue in to rake it against the back of his teeth and taste him. Ganymede was fresh and pleasant, not too different to how he had predicted he'd be.

The prince was stunned at first, but the tongue rolling against his was insistent and in too deep to remove now. He lifted a hand and curled it uselessly in the air, eyes softening a little as he surrendered to the feel of it. Some of his anger leaked away; if Apollo always smelt nice, he tasted just as good. It was hard to resist for long.

Pulling back, Apollo dragged his fingertips over the prince's cheek, breath fanning over his face. Ganymede shivered against his touch and finally decided to press that useless hand to Apollo's chest.

"You're going to be with me forever," Apollo whispered. "Why don't you at least make it a little more interesting?"

Ganymede sighed, hating the inner conflict he was experiencing. He looked to the side and closed his eyes, as if that might lessen his responsibility for the words. "I still have my dignity. Don't take this as a sign that I'm surrendering that."

Apollo could hear the permission in the boy's thoughts. "Oh, it'd be boring if you did."

Ganymede leant back in tentatively, as if not sure what he was doing, and kissed the deity's bottom lip. Apollo smiled against his mouth and dipped his chin down, turning it into another deep kiss, grabbing the prince's waist to pull him closer. It seemed to ignite a passion in the human and he placed his hands on Apollo's shoulders, twisting his head to the side, opening his mouth wider.

They kissed until Ganymede was breathless and the boy wasn't sure what to make of the fact he was enjoying it. Never had he thought he would be in such a situation with _him_ of all people. He digested it as Apollo took his hand and led him towards the stables where they could lean on the hay which was softer than the ground.

As soon as Ganymede's back touched the straw, Apollo was in front of him, sliding off his sandals. The god caressed his feet and kissed up the length of his calf, eyes never leaving his quarry. The prince started to blush again and closed his eyes, moving his head forward so that some of his hair fell down to cover his face.

He felt Apollo's chuckle against the skin of his leg and arched back a little into the straw, the god's hands climbing higher. They brushed the bits of robe away, knocking it back from his legs to expose them. The prince felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny, but when he dared to open his eyes it was to see Apollo smiling and not at all laughing at his expense.

Noticing his gaze on him, Apollo leant back up to kiss the side of Ganymede's throat. "I know you don't trust me," he said, "but try to have a little faith in me now. I'm not treating this situation lightly."

"I know," Ganymede said, but his voice quavered and dropped into a soft breath of air as he felt the god's thumb stroke up over the skin of his inner thigh.

"I'm aware no one has touched you before," Apollo said into the shell of his ear. Ganymede would have thought him a demon rather than a god—not for the first time—with how seductive he was. "Even if you do belong to me now, I won't hurt you... unless you want me to?"

"I'm not a masochist!" Ganymede protested, more fire in his voice now. Apollo had called him that before when he'd been killing himself repeatedly to cure his boredom.

The deity only laughed and nibbled his ear lobe, stroking at his thigh again. As quickly as the boy's fire had risen, it faded again, and he spread his legs as Apollo moved between them. Swift fingers undid the belt around Ganymede's waist and dropped it to the side, the sheathed dagger making a small _thump_. "Let's get this off," said Apollo.

He started plucking off all the jewellery the Trojan boy wore: his bracelets and neck pieces, but left the elaborate earrings where they were. He undid the knot in his toga and Ganymede shifted to help strip himself underneath the god, forcing down his own self-consciousness at revealing himself like this. He was no match for Apollo's beauty, but the deity had flattered him many times, so he used that to reassure himself.

Bare beneath him, Apollo admired the slim body. He touched his hands to Ganymede's sides and dropped his gaze between his legs, shamelessly taking in an eye-full. "You really surpass any mortal standard of beauty," he said. "It's so surprising."

Ganymede blushed hard now. He shifted his legs closer together subtly and leant up on one elbow to place his fingers on the god's belt. He did as Apollo had done, undoing it before lowering it to the ground.

Apollo discarded his own necklaces and arm bands, even losing the headpiece so that his long hair flowed freely around his shoulders. Ganymede was transfixed by the flawless strands as the deity undressed—effortlessly, like he wasn't wearing an intricate garment—and gracefully placed his robes to the side. "You're not uncomfortable, are you?" He asked.

Ganymede shifted against the hay. It wasn't exactly nice, but he could manage. "It's fine." He couldn't deny it now: he wanted Apollo. Seeing the lean body, bright eyes, and unmarked skin... he hated to admit it, but he was beautiful. If he had ever doubted the man was truly a god in the past, he believed it now, the way he shined radiantly despite the darkness. Even if he wasn't sculpted and muscled like the statues had shown him to be, he was gorgeous and radiated such an aura now that Ganymede found himself submitting happily. He'd probably berate himself for it later.

Apollo heard the thoughts and smiled, leaning in to kiss him. Ganymede placed a hand in the ends of his hair and returned it, stretching out under him, pliant and willing. It sent a thrill through them both and Apollo bit the boy's lip as he broke the kiss. Even if it was frustrating him to be serious for so long, it was worth it.

Experimentally, he lowered his hand to draw circles around the prince's navel. Ganymede stiffened, exhalation hitching. That area was obviously tender, the god noted smugly. He repeated the action and then lowered his head to dip his tongue inside. He was rewarded with a small shiver.

"Apollo..." Ganymede said softly. That was the second time he had uttered his name; usually he referred to him as a demon or spoke directly.

Apollo lapped at the boy's belly button and placed a hand to one of his hip bones, glancing up. "Enjoying yourself _now_?" He asked.

The blonde shivered again and dropped a hand to continue toying with Apollo's hair, curling the long strands about his fingers. The texture was smooth, like silk, and reflected the moon's rays. His hand froze and his breathing cut off with a soft gasp as the god ventured to place a hand between his legs. The virginal reaction amused Apollo.

He coiled his fingers around the prince's length and gave it a teasing squeeze, coaxing him to relax with a few kisses to his collar bone. Ganymede murmured a groan and finally melted into the ministrations, letting Apollo excite him with his slow strokes.

He felt the pleasure clawing down his spine to pool in his stomach, fanning out and urging his hips to respond to every movement of the god's wrist. Uttering a soft whimper, he curled a hand around behind Apollo's neck and guided him to his mouth, initiating the kiss with an urgency spiked by his mounting desire.

'_Humans really are so subjected to their urges,'_ the deity mused and closed his eyes, sliding his tongue against the Trojan prince's. He felt the appendage in his hand stiffening and fastened his motions, swallowing the boy's low moan. Never had he thought this would be so much fun—Ganymede really had been the right choice to bring to his garden.

The boy reached out to touch him in return and he sighed, breaking the kiss to drag his mouth over Ganymede's jaw and neck. He nibbled at the pale flesh as shy fingers mimicked his own movements, trying to reciprocate. He wasn't as overwhelmed by the sensation as Ganymede was, but his body resembled that of mortal's and he was able to feel the pleasure vividly. With a groan, he lowered his mouth to a nipple and flicked his tongue against it.

Ganymede arched a little and a soft noise passed his lips, his fingers curling against the back of Apollo's neck, able to feel the delicate bone of his spine there.

"Focus on this feeling," the god told him, eyes flashing.

Ganymede felt the hand leave off of his shaft and blinked owlishly, as if having just been woken up, pulling back his own arm. He was momentarily confused, but then Apollo was nipping at his skin and rolling the small bud of his nipple between his teeth. He looked down at him, lips partially open, blue eyes wide; even pleasuring him like this, Apollo seemed so mighty. The boy wasn't particularly fond of seeing him in this light after all the cussing he'd done, but it was inevitable and he didn't really care at the moment.

He watched the unearthly creature lift his fingers to his mouth and dip them inside, sucking on them carefully, drawing each appendage out individually. His eyes never left the human's as his tongue curled about his digits, narrowing to seductive slits. Lowering his hand away again, Apollo licked his lips and returned his mouth to the blonde's nipple.

Ganymede's breathing hitched and he stuttered out a gasp as a finger slid inside of him, invading the entrance to his body. "A-Apollo..."

"Focus on my mouth, Ganymede," the redhead said, purring the words out against the prince's chest. He pressed his finger in slowly to the second knuckle, letting his lover adjust, kissing and licking to distract him.

He pulled it back and pressed it in again, keeping his movements as gentle as possible. Even if he was able to take whatever he wanted from the human, he wanted him to enjoy this as well—and not just because it was Ganymede's birthday. The human custom meant very little to him. He was doing this for the boy's sake, and not wholly to cure his own boredom... but Ganymede's as well. Nothing made eternity more interesting than a bit of angry desire.

Ganymede shifted his thighs and Apollo had to push them apart with his other hand, lapping down to the prince's navel. "Keep your body limp and stop being stubborn," he mumbled.

Ganymede blushed and tried to glare. "I'm not being stubborn! It hurts, you fool."

'_There's that familiar tone.'_ Apollo offered the boy a snakelike grin and added a second finger, stretching him out. Ganymede actually relaxed a little for that insertion and tilted his head back, redirecting his mind to the path of the god's tongue and how it felt on his cool skin.

Reaching in deep, Apollo found that spot which elicited a great response from the prince. He brushed his fingers against the small bundle of nerves and Ganymede uttered a loud cry, bending his spine to push against the god's fingers. Instantly, his pain seemed to melt away under the attention to his prostrate and his concealed gasps turned into moans.

Apollo finally added a third finger, giving the boy a moment and then soothing him by deliberately controlling his movements to that area. "N-... nngh, Apollo."

The tone suggested there had almost been a 'please' on the end of the statement, but Ganymede had retained enough dignity to hold it back. As lovely as it would be to play with the prince until he finally succumbed to begging, Apollo had no quarry saving that for... another time. He did want to be gracious for Ganymede's first time, and the concern took even him by surprise. Pushing it away, he shook his head lightly so that his long hair fell about his face in strands.

He pecked the blonde's cheek, easing his fingers out. Ganymede breathed against his ear and lifted his hands to the deity's shoulders, sliding his fingers over the smooth skin there. He applied some pressure to the grip, obviously informed enough to feel anxious about the situation. Apollo calmed him by pressing his mouth to the boy's chin and jaw again, still rolling around some mixed feelings towards this new compassionate side of him.

The god slid his hands down to support Ganymede's hips, lifting the boy and then balancing him with one hand so he could guide himself to the prince's entrance. The blonde tensed and Apollo whispered, "No, you have to stay perfectly relaxed... ahaha."

Ganymede turned his head away and partially concealed his face with a hand. He felt Apollo lean forward and then pain shoot up his spine as he was breached. He arched back, agonised voice tainting the air, and dug his nails into the tanned shoulders.

Apollo eased forward and pushed himself in to the hilt, hand drifting automatically to Ganymede's length to try and alleviate his suffering. The prince whimpered through his teeth and twisted a little, overwhelmed by the pain; even after the preparation, it felt so raw. Apollo palmed him slowly and leant over to kiss him, pressing their chests together. He could feel Ganymede's heart hammering through his own body and laid a kiss on his pulse, feeling it flutter as well.

"It's alright, Ganymede," he whispered, knowing the boy would believe his words.

The blonde clamped his teeth together and met Apollo's iridescent gaze, nodding once, and then the god pulled back. Thrusting forward again gently, he buried himself in the tight heat with an appreciative sigh. Ganymede shuddered and bit down on another yell, so the deity put more focus into the movement of his hand.

"A-... ah," the Trojan prince sighed and let his head roll to the side again. Apollo thrust in twice more and managed to locate that spot he'd tickled with his fingers.

Ganymede's eyes widened and he choked on a cry, sliding his palms down Apollo's arms, lifting his knees a little to lay them against the god's hips. Apollo smiled at the reaction and aimed his thrusts in the same direction, drawing forth a long moan and a tightening of the calves looped around him. He set up a rhythm, hand falling into pace with his thrusts and Ganymede's own movements. It was miraculous how graceful they were; Apollo had mostly considered it a dirty human act... but this was beautiful.

Ganymede arched his head back, exposing his throat to Apollo as they moved against the hay, all its discomfort now lost on the boy. He lost himself in the god's scent and presence over him—_inside _him. He even held Apollo close, kissing back at him tentatively, tracing his mouth over the defined collar bones, trying to give back what he was receiving.

Apollo's force increased slightly and his hips snapped against Ganymede's, his hand struggling to keep up. He dropped a few soft pants against the pale skin under him and let the prince take over the responsibility of holding on; his free hand found the hay stack and he supported himself against it so he could thrust cleanly inside Ganymede. The blonde slid his hands under the god's armpits and clung to him, arching up into every push and crossing his ankles to bring him in deeper.

Apollo found Ganymede's eyes and held his gaze, sensing they were both close. Their breathing was heavy now and the boy's whimpers were anxious. His voice broke and he cried out again, jerking under Apollo as he finally fell over the edge and came into the god's hand; Apollo sucked in his expression and smiled slowly. The clenching around his own organ drew forth a loud groan and he buried himself deep, spilling inside the prince with an elegant sigh and tilt of his chin.

They held the position for a moment, riding it out, and then Apollo dropped his weight onto Ganymede and curled a hand through his hair. The boy nuzzled against his neck, trembling from the aftermath, and he didn't mock him—not now.

He kissed his ear, smoothed back a sweaty strand of hair, and then lifted his hips. Easing out of Ganymede, he laid down beside him and pulled him close. As he expected, the boy accepted the comfort willingly; humans had a tendency to cuddle after this sort of thing, and he'd allow it... if only because it was of no expense to him. He kissed the blonde's forehead tenderly.

"Apollo," Ganymede whispered.

The god partially shook his head. "If you want me to wake you up in time for the sunrise, you'd best sleep."

The prince knew he would need to think properly on this and his thoughts were all jumbled at the moment; he was too tired to form many logical deductions at all. He let himself feel... happy, though. He couldn't remember what the sensation felt like, but he recognised it as soon as he started to smile, and he closed his eyes. He prayed Apollo wasn't lying to him. Seeing the sun would truly make this day alright—better than the others.

Apollo caught the weary thoughts and smirked a little, flattening out Ganymede's hair slowly with his palm. Maybe this would get more interesting. Maybe this change would make for a very entertaining eternity.

The boy's breathing evened out and within seconds he was asleep. Apollo glanced at the sky, knowing who was watching, and awaited the sun.

~000000000000000000000000000~

Apollo woke Ganymede minutes before the sunrise, shaking him gently after fearing he had left it too late to rouse the boy. The blonde opened his eyes and stretched, blinking against the light of dawn. Then he realised why he had been woken and what that light meant; without making any further fuss, he sat up on the hay.

He felt a steady pain burning through his pelvis, but it paled in comparison to the pain he had inflicted on himself and eventually learnt to deal with.

"The sun is rising," Apollo murmured, eyes narrowed towards the large orange globe as it ascended into the sky. Even naked, he didn't look any different to Ganymede; he didn't look vulnerable, weakened, _human_... no less compared to what he normally was. That still surprised the boy.

The god decided not to interrupt the moment as Ganymede tilted his head back and dared to watch the sun climb over the horizon. He'd never seen him smile like that in his presence. The expression crossed the prince's face now and lightened up his eyes, making him look as young as the body he was trapped in.

"Thank you for letting me see this," Ganymede spoke softly, tone curt, as if he didn't like to thank the god for anything. He knew that it would be easy for Apollo to take him away from here, however, and that he was being _allowed_ to see the sun. He tried to ignore that.

Apollo smiled, watching the boy from the corner of his eye. "Do you consider this beautiful, Ganymede?"

"I do."

The deity nodded and straightened, leaving the hay pile. He lifted his robes from the ground and dressed himself fluidly; Ganymede barely saw him, distracted by the sun as he was. When Apollo took his hand and eased him up, he knew it was time. He went to his own silken blue toga and tied it around his waist using the gold trim. He dressed slower than Apollo had, but he became aware of a few more aches as he did.

Apollo pressed a finger to the base of his spine and leant over his shoulder. "Do you hurt?"

Ganymede tightened the flowing robe around his shoulders and shook his head. "It's nothing I can't handle," he assured.

"I know. You reasoned before that it doesn't hurt as much as killing yourself. I just thought it'd be considerate of me to ask."

Ganymede turned slightly. "... Considerate?"

Apollo saw the flash in those eyes and grinned, glad to see that the anger was still there. With luck, he would get the best of both sides of the boy: his temperamental side, and his passionate side. "That's right, Ganymede."

The boy opened his mouth to argue with whatever repetitive statement had leapt to mind, but the deity just grabbed his wrist and leant forward, kissing his forehead before white light exploded and the sun vanished. Once again, Ganymede's world went black.

~000000000000000000000000000~

Nothing is more useful than silence. Ganymede considered it again as he lay amongst the flowers, staring up at the stars. When he'd awoken, Apollo had been nowhere in sight. He should have known. This didn't change anything between them. He was still a prisoner in Zeus's garden under Apollo's supervision.

A part of him felt different though... somewhat lighter. He didn't stare at the stars with disgust now, and he didn't curse the constant silence that left him prey to his thoughts.

The silence didn't just leave him as bait for his dark thoughts; it gave him time to consider the ones that truly matter. He'd never considered himself an optimist, but he supposed he'd never really needed to label himself like that. As a prince, everything had been fine. He'd rarely struggled. He knew the rules and how to abide by them successfully.

Here, he had to use his brain. That's what Apollo meant every time he compared him to a god; these thousands of years had given him time to brush up on his philosophical outlook. Nothing was more useful than silence because silence provoked thought and _action_. Silence is unbearable on its own; it can't be handled. It needs to be thwarted. Pity for the past won't accomplish that.

Not that Ganymede would let go of his anger and need for revenge. But he wasn't leaving this place, so maybe he could make himself a bit more comfortable. Maybe he could give himself some lighter thoughts to combat the silence.

Such as the smell of Apollo's skin, the warmth of his breath, the softness of his hair...

"Are all humans this _sickening_?" Apollo demanded from his usual perch on the pillar.

Ganymede shot upright and glared over at him. "You can't just listen in on my thoughts whenever you like!"

Apollo pressed off from the hard surface and glided to the ground, feet touching down lightly. "I can," he countered with an incredulous breath of air. "I just did—didn't you gather that implication from the way I... oh, never mind."

"That's not what I meant," Ganymede huffed, crossing his arms. "It's rude."

"Since when do I care about manners?" The god asked, breaking out into laughter.

Ganymede stared and tried to calm himself before his anger rose as high as his embarrassment. His face was coloured a light cerise and he turned away from the deity. "I can't _stand_ you, you know. You're a complete _ass_."

"That's not what you were thinking about a moment ago!" Apollo said delightfully, moving through the flowers to caress the strands of Ganymede's long hair.

The prince stiffened indignantly and tried to swat away a hand, only to have it caught in Apollo's. The god leant forward, eyes narrow. "I know you're still angry at me, Ganymede, and that will never change... but do you want to hear something?"

The boy felt his pulse quicken a little. "What?"

"I tried saying it aloud after you fell asleep to test the theory," Apollo said. "To my mild surprise, I could utter it... I love you."

Ganymede's blush intensified and his face fell like it had visibly been hit by shock. "W-what?"

"I love you, Ganymede," Apollo repeated, stepping forward, robe and hair billowing about him in the sudden wind. Flowers picked up and danced around their feet, glinting in the stars and the god's bright eyes. The boy found himself captivated by the shifting colours.

Tearing his arm back, Ganymede wheeled away and bit his tongue to try and combat how hard he was blushing. "You can't just say something like that," he hissed. "Not after how much I hate you."

Apollo wasn't deterred. He touched the blonde's chin and brought his eye contact back. "But do you really _hate_ me, Ganymede?"

"I... don't know..."

Suddenly, Apollo's face was too close and his breath too hot. "How long do you think you can lie to yourself? Eternity? I already know the truth in your mind."

"Fine!" Ganymede gasped, compelled to hold the god's gaze. Shivering a little, he whispered, "I... I guess you're not that bad..."

A soft laugh rent the air and Apollo kissed the Trojan prince's forehead again. "Your thoughts reveal much more than that... but it's fine. I don't want you turning into a boring pile of emotion. You might start counting off flowers, rhetorically wondering aloud if I love you."

Ganymede shoved him in the stomach and glared. "You're the worst."

He moved towards the Parthenon and Apollo let him go, smiling to himself. _'Who would have thought that it'd come to love? It's such a stupid emotion. The only other I've felt this strongly for is my sister.'_ He knew one thing though, and that was that he wouldn't be bored. Now he could play and see how long it took for the human to finally admit his feelings.

He watched the blonde disappear behind a pillar and folded his arms. He wouldn't exactly be easier on Ganymede now, but he felt more protective of him. He glanced upwards, knowing that this whole scenario would be of interest to his father. After all, who was this human? To be so special as to earn a cold god's love?

Apollo cringed.

It sounded so cliché.

* * *

**A/N: **That's it! I'm sorry if it wasn't up to your expectations, but it was fun to write. Thank you for reading!


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